On self-organization and emergence: #1 - Processes not systems

Over recent days, I've contributed to a couple of wide-ranging discussions on self-organization, in response blog posts by Bas Reus and Stephen Billing. This post and the next one summarize my current thoughts on the topic, from an informal coalitions perspective, to anchor them in this 'home' blog. I'm working on the basis of Weick's principle (in Sensemaking in Organizations) of "How do I know what I think until I hear [see] what I say?"

In the book, I describe organizations as dynamic networks of self-organizing conversations. Organizations exist because people can’t achieve alone what they need or want to achieve. So at the core of organization is the notion of people in interaction. And people use ‘talk’ (in the broadest sense of the word) as their medium of communication – both with others and with themselves (i.e. thinking). This means that self-organization isn’t a strategy designed and implemented by managers (as opposed, say, to command and control) it is a natural dynamic of all organizations.

Self-organization is not an optional way of managing

Often we hear management writers and commentators advocating the principles of self-organization as an alternative way of managing organizations. Typically, they position it as a more enlightened view of leadership – more empowered, in contrast to command and control. What they overlook is that the unalloyed ‘commanders and controllers’ are themselves active participants in the self-organizing processes of interaction within their organizations and beyond. Their inputs to these interactions may well be conditioned by their command-and-control mindset and behaviours. But the outcomes that arise will be no less subject to the principles and processes of emergence, self-organization and co-creation than if they were unconditional disciples of complexity thinking.

Outcomes are unavoidably co-created

I’ve mentioned co-creation here and a similar confusion has arisen around this related concept. Many books, consultants and so on talk of co-creation as a deliberate act of collaboration and joint problem solving, in which decisions are worked out jointly rather than being imposed from above. But all outcomes are unavoidably co-created, as people come together to perceive, interpret, evaluate and act upon the events, issues, edicts and so on that make up their world (more here). It is the self-organizing interplay of this myriad of local (i.e. one-to-one and small-group) conversations across the organization and beyond that leads to the global (e.g. organization-wide) outcomes. It is important to recognize that this does not imply a free-for-all. The dynamics of conversation and interaction are such that people are both enabled and constrained by their interactions with others.

Organizations are not "living systems"

The critical thing for me, then, is that it is the conversational interactions that are self-organizing. And, the dynamics of these are affected by such things as shifting power relations, the identities and self-interests of participants (which themselves emerge through interaction), the capacities of people for self-awareness and self-reflection, and so on. This also means that all interactions are necessarily political in nature. So it is misleading to talk of organizations as “living systems”, as is popular in many quarters today. None of the systems that are used as examples of organizational dynamics exhibit these uniquely human characteristics, which are played out through conversation.

... nor Complex Adaptive Systems

I would argue that it is also misleading to talk of organizations as Complex Adaptive Systems (CAS) and to import lessons from the laboratory-researched behaviour of these directly into the organizational world. For example, the latter rely on an outside observer/controller (the programmer), who sets down a small number of rules governing the local behaviour of agents in the CAS. Research shows that global (system-wide) patterns emerge as a result of the local, rule-based interaction of these agents. This has led advocates of the CAS model of organization to call for managers to set a few rules, within which it is presumed people will self-organize into organizationally beneficial ways of working. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), as Ralph Stacey says, people don’t tend to follow rules in the mechanistic way that this implies. Also, as suggested above, managers are active participants; that is, they are ‘on the pitch, playing’, they are not ‘sitting in the stands’, so to speak, objectively observing and controlling other people’s actions.

... nor systems of any kind

A CAS has, by definition, a system boundary. And I do not view organizations in these terms. The dynamic network of conversations is as wide and unbounded as the ‘most distant’ conversations that it spawns and that impact upon it. In other words, no organizational ‘thing’ exists outside these conversations other than more conversations. Clearly, a whole host of physical artefacts come into being over time as a result of some of these conversations (such as structures, strategies, processes, information systems, procedures, value statements and so on). But, in terms of organizational dynamics, these just provide an imprint of past conversations, which continue to impact upon the ongoing conversational life of ‘the organization’.

These artefacts often serve, by accident or design, to institutionalize certain power relationships and intended ways of acting. And they inevitably both enable and constrain ongoing interactions. But the ways in which they do so, and the outcomes that result from them, again depend wholly upon the nature and content of the conversations that they trigger. The physical artefacts may be very visible and tangible, but it is in the ongoing negotiation of their meaning that we find the essence of organization.

A self-organizing view of organizational culture

One final point worth mentioning in the context of self-organization is how I conceptualize what I call the “deep culture” of organization(more here). The more that people make sense of the world in particular ways, through their day-to-day conversations and interactions with others (both in their ‘immediate circle’ and beyond) the more likely it is that they will continue to make sense of things in similar ways going forward. That is, patterns of meaning emerge which tend to channel ongoing sense making down these same mental, emotional and behavioural ‘pathways’. And this deepens the metaphorical ‘channels of meaning’ still further.

Here again then, meaning cannot be handed down by ‘management’. It is determined in the moment of interaction whilst, at the same time, tending to be imperceptibly self-organized by the patterns of past sense making. This means that, whilst the possibility always exists for novelty to emerge, the dynamics of self-organization make it more likely that existing patterns of meaning will be reinforced.

Leadership implications

The consequence of all of this for leadership is that managers can act with intention but with no certainty of outcome. If meaning, action and outcomes arise in the moment of people’s interaction, it means that it is on these day-to-day interactions that managers need to focus their attention.

Comments

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Another great summary, well articulated as usual Chris.

I am interested in your concept of deep culture. I will think about this further. At first blush, I am concerned that it could contribute to the reifying of culture as something outside the interaction of the people concerned.

So I will be thinking more about what you've written about deep culture.

I agree with much of this, Chris, great post, although sometimes you have a tendency to talk about conversations in a reified way, as though they were happening and self-organising somehow independently of the conversationalists! I don't know if GH Mead's idea of gesture and response is helpful here. It is not just conversations that are happening in organisations (although I have to say that I really admire Deidre Boden's The Business of Talk). But we are continuously gesturing and responding to each other in ways that create the fluctuating patterning of power relations between us. Conversation is one such gesture, but the signs, symbols, e-mails and artefacts are also contributors.
Chris

I like your post very much Chris. I was just getting ready to write my monthly post, this one on the topic of 'problems with the creative tension model' but after reading yours I'm now leaning more to the 'hero with a thousand deaths' topic. Perhaps an example of the gesture response process Chris Mowles mentions... :) I'm leaning now to the latter topic since your post is a great summary of some very, very tough changes that managers are being pushed to make. My own experience of coming to grips with these changes was very much like a death of a worldview and for a time feeling like there was nothing to replace it. It was not at all comfortable.

And I guess I'll just write about what a mess you can make with the creative tension model next month!

Chris: I'm still trying to figure out where the 'edges' are on this. I'm reading your book and so far haven't found out where we disagree. But I pretty much disagree with the lines you've taken throughout this piece.

I think this says that the 'edges' of reality are somewhere in this space...because it's where the divergence occurs.

I was having a conversation recently with someone also not from OD...and they too notice a pattern in where OD'ers draw the line. It was because of the line I refused to go into advanced education in the field...because it did not accomplish the most critical aspect: design.

I'm still trying to unravel it all. For the time being my insides bristle when I hear terms related to 'managing'. I'm pretty sure that my arguments I use for "knowledge management" apply to people to. You can't "manage" people any more than you can "teach" them anything (you realize the whole education system is in an upheaval over the latter word, as well?).

Indeed, "management" is the antithesis of Enterprise 2.0. The goals we're looking to achieve there are to bypass the 'barriers' management introduces. So by that standard, I'm fundamentally opposed to all principles of management.

Many thanks Stephen, Chris, Tom and Paula for your comments. They’re much appreciated.

It seems that I'm broadly ‘on the same page’ as the first three of you, as regards the meaning and dynamics of self-organization; with, perhaps, one or two nuances of difference that I will refer to below.

But you, Paula, suggest that you see a fundamental difference between my views, as expressed in this post, and yours on design thinking and Enterprise 2.0 – even if the “edges” between our two perspectives are unclear to you. My primary focus is on organizational dynamics, which I see as universally applicable to all aspects and forms of human interaction. And I don’t think of myself as an “OD’er”, with lines that I’m not prepared to cross in relation to these dynamics. So I’m intrigued to see if there are any ‘black holes’ in my thinking that would account for your unease. However, to do your comment justice, I feel that I need first to reacquaint myself with your thinking. I’ll therefore look at your site and then respond properly to your comment. One other point. At the start of this post, I mentioned that I would be posting two entries on the topic, following the recent discussions on other blogs. If you happen to read the second one (which I’ll post later today), you’ll see reference there to “design”. This relates to classic organizational design and isn’t meant to be a response to your comments here.

So what of the other comments made and queries that were raised?

First, taking your point, Chris, about your perception that I seem to reify the idea of conversations, I welcome the cautionary note. I certainly don’t intend to shift attention away from the here-and-now of people in interaction when, for example, I talk about ‘organizations’ (oops!) as “dynamic networks of self-organizing conversations”. For me, people interacting are implicit in the notion of conversation: I can’t see that you can have a conversation without the active participation of “conversationalists”! Certainly, Informal Coalitions is written with that as its central proposition. However, I’ll try to keep a check on the way that I write about the process, provided that it doesn’t lead me to use unnecessarily contorted language. I’ll also say a bit more later about reification, in relation to Stephen’s comment.

I’m familiar with Mead’s gesture-response view of the conversational process (primarily via the CMC series of books!). And I feel that my thoughts on communication are broadly consistent with this. So, as I say, I very much see conversation as an active – and interactive – process. In this regard, I also agree with your point that we are continuously gesturing and responding to each other in a variety of ways. In Informal Coalitions, my primary focus is on what those in formal leadership roles (throughout an organization) might do to respond to the complex social dynamics of which they are part. So there, I suggest that ‘talk’ (in the broadest sense of the word) is their primary action tool: “… for our purposes, talk involves all aspects of interaction, including listening, gesturing, involuntary signalling through body language and so on, as well as talking itself. It also includes self-talk (i.e. thinking). For managers, then, talk is action …”.

I also make the point about the communicative power of symbols – especially the role-modelling symbolism of managers’ words and actions (including their silence and inaction!). Organizational artefacts, as the products and ‘imprints’ of past conversations, similarly impact upon this ongoing sense-making process. However, I would argue that meaning doesn’t reside in the managers’ behaviours or in the artefacts. In the same way that Ralph Stacey sees a CEO’s broadcast, say, as a gesture that elicits a response in the form of many ‘local’ conversations, I would argue that the same applies in relation to the various artefacts and symbols that abound. Their meaning is negotiated in, and emerges from, the conversations (including self-conversations) in which people perceive, interpret, evaluate and act upon them ‘locally’.

Finally, Stephen, you also raise the question of reification, this time in relation to my notion of “deep culture”. You might have read an earlier post of mine (at http://bit.ly/14M3q) in which I described a three-part conception of organizational culture. Within this, I see the formal strategies, structures, vision and value statements, physical artefacts and so on as providing the source material for the ‘official’ “culture as articulated”. This is certainly an act of reification. And there are also elements of the “culture as experienced” (folklore, myths, anecdotes, unofficial custom and practice, etc) that reify aspects of the ongoing interactions. It’s here that people would look to illustrate any claim that it’s “because of the culture” that things are as they are.

However, what I call “deep culture” comprises a dynamic patterning process, which is out of people’s immediate awareness. This doesn’t exist – can’t exist - ‘outside’ the conversations. Ideally, as I say in the book, “… the word ‘culture’ would be a verb, to describe this dynamic (literally verbal) process.” However, it is the expectancy created by this patterning of past sense making that tends to channel current sense making, imperceptibly, down familiar ‘pathways’. So the notion of “deep culture” does not reify this ongoing process of shared meaning making - at least not in the sense of suggesting that some ‘thing’ external to people’s interactions has agency over them.

It does, though, reify it in the sense of naming it. And therein lies the rub (as they say). We need to name things in order to talk about them, to ourselves and to others. For example, we can’t talk about the tendency to reify social processes without naming (i.e. reifying) the process that we (helpfully, I would suggest) call “reification”. The power that Mead vests in language wouldn’t be possible without the reification of ideas, feelings and so on into words. So I would say that reification isn’t all bad. In this important sense, it facilitates interaction and the social construction/negotiation of meaning. It only becomes a problem if the words, concepts, models and frameworks that are its currency take on a life of their own, abstracted from the everyday reality of people interacting with each other. Or if the complexity of that social process is not fully acknowledged. I recently came across the work of Etienne Wenger, who writes persuasively about what he calls the “duality of participation and reification” in relation to his interest in communities of practice.

Thanks again for your comments. As always, these have made me think. And, again as always, I’ve ended up writing more in response than I had set out to do. I guess that’s emergence for you!

This is a stimulating conversation isn't it - going on across several blogs and comments all at the same time.

You raise an interesting point about reification. It seems to me that you might be equating reification with naming something. I take it that in drawing attention to this, you are referring to the phenomenon (not often considered) that the process of naming something as "this" simultaneously names everything else as "that." So if I call something a circle, then I am also calling everything outside that circle "not circle." So by naming "circle" I have actually created two categories, ("circle" and "not circle") even though I am only focusing attention on one category - the one I have named. The other category becomes almost invisible in this process. Is that correct?

I understand reification as something different from that - and perhaps you do too. I understand reification as being the process of taking something that does not really exist as a physical object, and treating it as though it were an object or a physical thing. In the same way that personification means to treat an object as though it were a person ("I remembered Sunday's mistake," as though Sunday were a person who could make a mistake. Or thinking of a storm as grumpy - as though it could have the kind of emotion a person has). I think of "reification" as meaning "thingification."

Naming the concept is perhaps part of the process of reification but does not necessarily lead to reification. So to use the word "culture" as an example, we could, having named the concept of "culture" then go on to treat culture as though it actually exists as a thing that can be managed, manipulated or changed by rational action, and that perhaps has properties such as direction and speed, in a similar way to how you could manipulate a ball and say that it has direction or speed. Of course, culture is not a physical thing that you can touch and discern its shape and direction.

At most culture is an abstract concept created by humans to help to explain certain social phenomena - i.e. the way certain patterns amongst a group, country or organisation seem to be continually perpetuated.

So to me, reification is something that we commonly do in everyday life and in many situations, this is useful to do as it helps us to understand certain things. It can also lead us to think of trying to manage and control such abstract concepts as culture, as though they were actual physical things, and this, to my mind is unlikely to be helpful and that is the danger of reification.

Will also look further into your notion of deep culture because I feel I don't understand enough about it.

By the way I'm looking forward to your next post in this conversation.

The philosopher Axel Honneth who has made his name developing both Hegel and Mead's ideas on recognition gave a Tanner lecture in 2005 where he identified two problems with reification. The first is that in reifying and experience or a social phenomenon 'in the course of our practices we might pursue a goal so energetically and one dimensionally that we stop paying attention to other, possibly more original and important motives and aims.' In other words, we abstract from an experience, derive a goal or an intellectual schema from it, and forget about what it was that sparked out human response in the first place. The second danger is that we produce 'a series of thought schemata that influence our practices by leading to a selective interpretation of social facts (which) can significantly reduce our attentiveness for meaningful circumstances in a given situation.' We come across this a lot in organisaitons when people develop grids, or tools to understand what they are dealing with by abstracting from experience. Of course, schemata can be helpful but the danger is that they begin to take on a life of their own seeing regularities where no regularities exist. Chris